


The Lack of It

by brilligspoons



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Cuddling and Snuggling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilligspoons/pseuds/brilligspoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Cuba, Erik and Charles are in a holding pattern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lack of It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pocky_slash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/gifts).



It starts, as Charles has noticed rain is wont to do, with a single droplet striking the window and trailing down the glass until it loses momentum and allows itself to rest or be absorbed into the wood of the pane. One drop becomes two and three simultaneously, and then four, five, and six follow swiftly behind them. After eleven, Charles loses count, and then it's less _a few raindrops_ and more a waterfall using the glass as a guide in its journey to the grass and earth below. A flash of lightning, then, and now he has moments to count until the thunder answers, a low rumble that reverberates in his bones.

Another flash. Charles closes his eyes and inhales ( _one two three four_ ) then exhales sharply, the sound swallowed by another long roar of thunder. In the silence that follows, he hears the door to the study swing open with a high whine and heavy footsteps coming into the room directly after. Charles curls up a little tighter on the couch and makes a note to oil the hinges in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks. The footsteps, closer to the sofa now, pause briefly before resuming. Erik stops in front of him and sits down on the small patch of cushion left open by the curve of Charles' body. Charles scowls at him and hopes the force of his glare will make him move, but it seems to have the opposite effect as Erik sets himself more securely on the couch.

"The thunder woke me," Erik says as he leans back against Charles' torso. "Thought I'd take a walk around the house, make sure everything was still in one piece."

"You're lying," says Charles. "I didn't even need to read your mind to know that. And this place has weathered more than a rainstorm in its time, you needn't concern yourself with the foundations."

"I like to learn this for myself. It makes me feel more secure."

Charles huffs out a sigh and tries to sit up, but Erik lays a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving. He stills, then freezes for a moment when Erik tries to coax him into stretching his legs out. Erik meets his stare, and Charles gives him to the count of five before he complies with Erik's unspoken request. Once Charles has extended himself, Erik lies down and gathers him closer in to his chest until his hands are joined behind Charles' back. He noses at the top of Charles' head and breathes in deeply.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Charles murmurs. He relaxes muscle by muscle, finds himself inching closer to Erik so he can press his cheek against his chest. Above Erik's shoulder, Charles can see that the rain has slowed to _one drop two drops three drops four_ again. Lightning illuminates the room for a second and disappears just as quickly.

"What do you mean?" asks Erik.

Charles closes his eyes and opens his mouth to say _Are we always going to meet here, always in the dark, in the middle of a storm_ , or _Will we never have anything more than an embrace on the sofa in my study_ , but all that comes out is, "Nothing. We can talk about it in the morning."

Erik's arms tighten around him, and he feels a soft kiss being pressed into his hair. "If that's what you want," Erik says, and Charles, not trusting himself with words anymore, merely nods and counts Erik's breaths until he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> pocky_slash really needed cuddle!fic, so I tried to oblige. :D?
> 
> Title from Snow Patrol's New York, which I listened to on a repeat for two hours while I wrote this fic.


End file.
